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R “They’re gonna date” “THEY’VE PENETRATED THE GATE?!?”
#1
Honestly? The gods were bastards, sometimes. Making him show up in the middle of nowhere, or at least, nowhere he knew. Riddled with arthritis, suffering from old-man-itis, an empty stomach, and not to mention it was freezing outside. The whole combination was just…bad. A grumble of annoyance rolled from Rolland, his teeth ground together causing his jaw to ache from the sheer amount of pressure he was applying.

Life was kind of, sort of, very miserable.

While traversing the unknown area, Rolland
paused every so often, attempting to stretch out his afflicted joints and gain any ounce of relief he could. Although, it was usually all for naught. The man felt like a weeping old willow, hearing the way his joints creaked with each stride. Jeez, when did he get so old and crunchy sounding?

It was the scent of a hare that caught his attention, tongue slipping out and swiping across his lips hungrily. Ever-so-slightly, Rolland increased his pace, but even that hair-line adjustment spurred a throbbing ache in his hips and shoulders. A growl pressed out, a hiss of a breath into the air coupled with a side-eyed glare towards his hind legs.

At this rate, Rolland wasn’t sure if it would be the pain and old age, or starvation that he would fall victim to first.

Allowing his body to crumple and fall, he hit the ground with a thud, all the while he simply watched the hare prance away. His belly rumbled in retaliation, but there was no chance of catching it. So he chose to lay there, unmoving, contemplating his position in life. The frozen dirt was solid and unforgiving, by the gods he was uncomfortable, yet he made no attempt to stand again.

”Dunno what to do without ya, Lenore,” Rolland mumbled to himself, too distracted by his inner turmoil to even notice the small flurries — or maybe he just didn’t care anymore?
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#2
day 6 of heat
She was doing a little better, at least, foodwise. Bird's heat still burnt beneath her fur like the thermal warmth from a nearby volcano, but with a little more food in her belly, it was easier to focus past her instincts.

She exhaled a languid sigh as she picked her way through the forest, snowed on, half dead ferns and bushes erupting from the forest floor and brushing against her bright, mist-like figure. The forest would be a vibrant thing come spring. For now, the flora bursting with chlorophyll lay patiently in wait for its heyday to come again.

Bird envied them, briefly, that they were so secure in their futures. They knew the shine of the sun would soon grace their leaves again. She didn't. She could have wallowed in that for a while yet, but instead shook her fur out and pricked her ears at the voice rumbling nearby. Bird stepped back, tail curling around herself and hackles lifting as she shifted her gaze across the forest for the source.

Great. She was hearing shit now. "Who's there?" She snapped tersely, the snipped words trying to hide the tremble in her voice. Why couldn't she see the voice's owner? Maybe she was hearing things. Maybe she'd eaten something really, really wrong. Maybe her father was back to haunt her-She rather go crazy than that happen.
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#3
A gruff, aged sigh left him as he remained laying against the frozen ground. Rolland found no energy, or reason, to get up — so he sprawled out in a stretch, the occasional crack or creak of his bones and joints made his ears flick. His not-so-great resting break was short lived, the silence of the forest was tainted by some brat’s voice calling out. Annoyed, Rol mouthed a simple “what the fuck” to himself before hauling himself up, a grunt or two later he was once more on his feet.

Who’s there? Why did he have to answer that? “None a’ your damn business, that’s who!” his age could be heard in his hoarse voice and thundering tone, like a grandfather reprimanding his grandchildren. “Damn loud kids,” Rolland mumbled to himself, and grumbled, and mumbled some more.

Like a cat, the man bowed with his front half out stretched, attempting to loosen the stiffness that never seems to fade. He was ready to leave before that big mouth found him, but as the wind carried the scent of pheromones he couldn’t help but grimace. A sneer was given in the direction it had come from, the same way the damned kid yelling was. Was this brat really in heat and just screaming out to strangers? “are all kids fools now’a days?” Rolland looked up towards the sky, the gentle flurries peppering his coat. And then, an exasperated sigh as he began to head towards the younger wolf.
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#4
Her skittishness gave way to defiance as soon as the grouchy voice rang out in reply. Bird stiffened, throwing her ears forward and making a displeased face. She really would have liked to retort, but didn't want to rile up a wolf she couldn't even see more than necessary. Picking a fight in this state was probably stupid.

Which made it all the more appealing. Bird was nothing if not drawn, inexplicably, to foolish decisions. She was the definition of poking the bear just to see how many times it took to wake it up in a blind rage.

With no small amount of effort, she took a step back, before movement caught her eye and instinct made her stand her ground, scowling at the dark form approaching.
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